Max's POV
The street had a buzz to it today. One that felt too familiar… too loud for the quiet I was craving.
Ram's housewarming ceremony.
I stared at myself in the mirror one last time. Off-white saree with a soft sandal blouse. I didn't know why I chose this—maybe because it looked neutral… maybe because it looked like I was unaffected. Even though I wasn't.
Kitty barged into my room with a shriek, already dressed in a peach frock. "You look like a bride, Max! Are you trying to make someone regret?"
I gave her a mock glare. "Kitty, please."
Ren followed behind her, a bit more composed but still with that glint of mischief. "It's been forever since all of us were invited to the same event. Ram's family didn't forget anyone."
"Yeah," I mumbled, adjusting the pleats, "they didn't."
The walk to Ram's house was only a few meters—two or three houses apart—but every step I took felt like walking into the past. Our childhood memories played like invisible reels around the street lamps and dusty gates. It was like I couldn't escape it, no matter how grown-up I dressed or how tight I tucked in my emotions.
The entrance to his home was beautifully decorated—marigold flowers hanging like golden chains, fragrant and fresh. His mom greeted us with her ever-sparkling eyes, hugging Kitty and Ren like her own daughters.
Then… I saw him.
Ramakrishna.
Standing at the far end of the entrance, in a white kurta with his hair slightly messy from the morning rituals. He looked… like something from an old memory. One I hadn't fully deleted.
He didn't move immediately. Just watched us. Or maybe just me.
Before I could process anything, my school seniors waved at me. "Max! Didn't expect to see you here!"
Right. They were Ram's classmates too.
Kitty elbowed me. "Oh my God. Your secret life is crawling out of the shadows."
I tried to smile, but my heart was beating with a rhythm I didn't understand. Rithul arrived with his usual charm, gifting Ram's mom a small bouquet. His eyes landed on me for a second longer than necessary—but I ignored it.
I wasn't here for that drama.
One by one, the crowd settled. Laughter echoed in the backyard. Ram's dad gave a toast, sharing old stories of their struggles, and thanking every guest, including "the lovely kids of this colony."
Then came the moment.
Our eyes locked. Mine and his.
There were people between us. Conversations. Music. Traditions. But in that moment—it was just Ram and me.
He didn't smile. Neither did I.
But something inside my chest shifted.
I didn't know if it was the smell of sandalwood, or the weight of the saree I chose, or the way this street still echoed our unsaid things…
But I realized one thing:
This housewarming wasn't just about a house.
It was about everything that refused to stay buried—no matter how many walls we built.
Ram's POV
Everything was moving around me—people, laughter, rituals, relatives buzzing about—but my mind was waiting. Restless. Restless for something I didn't want to admit, but couldn't stop craving.
And then… she walked in.
Max.
In that off-white saree with a light sandal blouse, the softest shade I'd ever seen—like the first light of dawn—and for a second, I swear, the world slowed down.
I had seen her in school uniforms, messy buns, oversized college hoodies, even tired post-classroom faces—but this… this version of her felt like a daydream I didn't dare touch.
The pleats of her saree moved like poetry, and she didn't even try to be beautiful. She just was.
And I? I stood there like an idiot. Frozen.
I wanted to look away. Wanted to act casual. But my heart forgot how to pretend.
She walked in beside Kitty and Ren, who were all energy and excitement. But Max? She was silent. Elegant. Controlled. And I could tell she had no idea how much space she just occupied in my chest.
I remembered her walking with me on the streets after tuition days…
I remembered the exact moment she named me Mike—some private joke she never shared, but always kept.
I remembered that innocent smile she gave when I said my favorite color was blue, and the way she teased me saying, "That's too calm for a storm like you."
And now—she was the storm. And I was caught in it again.
"Ram, are you listening?" my mom asked beside me, breaking my trance. I nodded without hearing.
I couldn't take my eyes off Max.
She was talking to our seniors, laughing softly.
And all I could think about was how much I had missed the chance to be beside her like that. Openly. Proudly.
My friends noticed, of course.
"Bro… is this the Max?" one of them whispered.
I didn't answer.
Because she was the Max. My Max.
At least… once upon a time.
But looking at her now, all confident and distant in a saree she probably didn't even choose for me, made me ache.
And in that ache, I realized—
Maybe she never stopped being the girl I loved.
Maybe I never stopped being the guy who couldn't say it.
After sometimes...
The evening lights flickered gently across the garden, laughter floated in the air, and soft music played somewhere in the background. But all I could hear was my heartbeat.
I took a step forward.
Then another.
I didn't care who was watching. I didn't care what tomorrow held. My mind had millions of reasons to hold back—but my heart? It only had one reason to move.
Her.
I just walked towards her… for what my heart says to do.
Because maybe this was it.
My new chapter.
My new home.
And the new comeback… of me.
And maybe… just maybe…
It's finally time to tell her—everything.
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